


Creature

by KillerKueen



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Dom Belle, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-23
Updated: 2016-05-23
Packaged: 2018-06-10 03:59:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,324
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6938761
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KillerKueen/pseuds/KillerKueen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Belle and her creature play.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Creature

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for the 2015 Secret Santa exchange on Tumblr. I've been meaning to put in on AO3, and I can't believe it's only happening now. Well, actually I can. Guess who has two thumbs and is super lazy?
> 
> The prompt was: Dom Belle, woobie Rum, monster. It all makes sense if you squint.

Belle frowned as she sipped her tea. Even though the water was lukewarm now, it had been too hot when poured over the leaves, and no amount of sugar or milk was covering up the unappealing taste of singed grass.

Belle sighed, finally admitting defeat and pushing the tray away. Rumplestiltskin had learned to make tea that was worthy to be served to kings and queens, but she had never managed to get the hang of it. It annoyed her more than it should, really.

If her Rum weren’t currently occupied - tied up, as it were - he’d have made tea for her this afternoon, and maybe then she’d be in a slightly better mood.

There was nothing for it now, though. She sighed again, pushing away from the table. Maybe finishing her embroidery would lift her spirits. At the very least, it’d offer a much needed distraction.

* * *

_She opposed the marriage. Of course she did._

_Gaston had the intelligence and social grace of a cave troll. Never mind that he was the king of the Eastland or that his wealth and power far outstretched her father’s, a mere lord of Avonlea, in charge of only a fraction of the land in Gaston’s power. Never mind that Gaston was tall with broad shoulders and a strong jaw; he was a brute and Belle was not going to marry him._

_That’s what she told the king when he had first come to her and her father’s humble palace to ask for her hand. That’s what she told him the second time, too, when he had summoned her to his grand halls and demanded her acquiescence._

_It’s what she said the third and final time he had asked, looking up at him through the thick iron bars of her cell._

_Belle made her own choices, and she did not choose Gaston._

* * *

The sun was low in the sky by the time Belle finally stretched her arms and flexed her fingers. (Rum was always scolding her for staying in one position for too long; Belle insisted he simply lacked the proper discipline to stay still, period). She set her newly-embroidered handkerchief on the arm of the chair and stood up. She figured it was time to go find Rum. She’d bring him tea - he must be absolutely parched. Perhaps she’d even fix up a tray. There were still some pastries left from breakfast.

Having made up her mind, she made her way to the kitchen. Perhaps she’d just boil some water and add lemon. Her attempt at tea probably wasn’t what Rum needed right then.

* * *

_She was pulled roughly from the carriage towards the edge of the slope. She could just make out the opening of a cave at the very bottom of the deep chasm. The sunlight was hot on her face; the rope that tied her hands together behind her back pinched at her wrists._

_“The offer still stands, girl.” Hordor, the king’s captain and right-hand man, growled against her skin, sending a coil of disgust to her belly. “Accept the King’s suit, or face the beast that dwells in this pit. The choice is yours.“_

_His hot breath was at the back of her neck and Belle could hardly breath for the arm he had hooked around her waist, the other held her shoulder in a bruising grip. “Of course, you could choose me,” he cooed, pressing his face into her hair. “We could run away together.”_

_She held her head as high as she could, refusing to give into the fear that was slowly creeping its way up her spine. Stand tall, honey bird, even when your knees shake, her mother had told her. That’s what she planned to do. "I’ll take my chances with the beast.”_

_“Have it your way,” he said as he unwound his arm and pushed her hard between her shoulders, sending her forward and over the lip of the pit. A shriek was ripped from her throat as she fell down, down, down._

_Down._

* * *

The room was simple, which was how they both liked it. The house itself, really, was hardly grand. It was big enough for more than their small number of two, but there weren’t any floor rugs, no paintings hanging on the walls (there were many shelves overflowing with books, but that went without saying).

Ostentatious shows of wealth made Belle wrinkle her nose in distaste. It just made her Rum uncomfortable.

The room she and Rum shared had a large bed tucked into a corner. There was one window (facing West) and it was before it that Rum kneeled (also facing West), legs apart as much as was able with his wrists tied to his ankles. The soft golden light of the setting sun made his skin glow, and the sight was nearly breathtaking.

Belle closed the door behind her, turning the latch with a click that seemed to echo in the still room. No one would interrupt them, but she liked the response it produced in Rum, the thrill that teemed down his spine at the knowledge that there was no escape, that he was entirely at her mercy.

She stepped into the room and placed the teatray on the side table near the bed. “I missed you this afternoon,” she sighed as she poured a cup of hot water (as much as Rum was being punished right now, he didn’t deserve to be forced to stomach her attempt at tea) and placed a slice of lemon into it.

Belle walked to where she could stand in front of Rum, the setting sun warm on her back. Rum kept his head bowed, his eyes to the floor, like a good boy. She reached out and feather soft, urged him to lift his chin.

“Look at me,” Belle said. Once his eyes (gold and orange and deep) where on her, she brought the cup to his lips, urging him to drink, which he did, greedily. When the cup was empty, she refilled it.

“Now,” she placed the cup back on the tray, then brought her shoulders up, her head held high. Rum had his bowed again, the perfect image of a supplicant. “Are you ready to behave?”

* * *

_It felt like what had to have been hours for her to reorient herself at the bottom of the chasm. Belle’s hands were still tied and her head was now throbbing, though she should probably consider herself lucky for not breaking her neck on the way down._

_She had tried to sit up, but found that with her arms unable to offer their support (not to mention the fact that she was pretty sure one of her legs was, if not broken, sprained, and therefore, also no help to her). Just as well. The dull ache behind her eye that throbbed in time with the her heartbeat made her sickly and dizzy. She was trying very hard to ignore the feeling of something wet on her face, despite the fact her eyes were dry._

_Belle didn’t dare call out. She wasn’t afraid of Hordor, not with him at the top of the slope and her at the bottom, but the creature that was rumored to live there was a different matter altogether._

_As far as she knew, that’s all it was: a rumor. But with her hands still tied and her face bloody, she wasn’t in a hurry to find out for sure. All the same, the beast hadn’t come out yet, despite the noise she was sure she had made when Hordor had pushed her._

_Belle took a deep breath.  
Using her arms as best she could with the leg that didn’t currently hurt, she scooted to the nearest boulder. She turned her body to the side so the rough edge would be against her wrists and the rope. She rubbed, fast and hard._

_She heard a giggle from behind her, and Belle’s blood froze._

_“Clever girl,” sang a voice, high and twittering. “Clever girl.”_

_Belle swallowed. She heard something scuttle up the side of the rock, and then there was a shadow that fell across her legs._

_Against her better judgment, she looked up. The first thing she noticed was wild, unruly hair that if washed, could perhaps be called curly. The second was the grey-green skin, dull and scaly like a lizard’s. Then there was the long, crooked nose above a mouthful of jagged and moldy teeth. His eyes (the pupil blown, the gold and orange irises over-large) scrutinize her._

_“Hello,” she said, weakly. She wished she could be standing for this, that her head would be held high as he cut her down. Nearly everything felt bruised, though, she couldn’t stand, and the world was still just a little sideways._

_Her back had been straight for Hordor. She took pride in that._

_Instead of immediately tearing her limb from limb, the thing twittered again. “Hello,” it sang in it’s high voice. “Clever girl.” She watched as he climbed down the rock she was leaning against, and came to perch at her feet._

_“You’re just a man,” Belle said, surprised now that she had a proper look at all of him. She’s pretty sure he’s a man, in any case. For all his unusual skin and rotted teeth, he has the form of one._

_“Man?” he asked, and reached out a hand to touch her cheek. She didn’t flinch from his claws (stained black and sharp), even when they traced the line of her jaw. Belle shivered as a slow smile curved his mouth, flashing his teeth (stained black and sharp). For all his beastly appearance, his touch was gentle._

_Belle didn’t know what to make of that._

_“What are you going to do to me? Assuming you aren’t just going to eat me, of course.” She asked before she could stop herself. But all things considered, she would like to know. And to think, under normal circumstances she quite liked surprises._

* * *

Rum whined. It was a pitiful sound.

“That’s not an answer, pet.” Belle reached out and ran a hand through his hair. She pulled at the strands, forcing his face up again. “Are you ready to behave?”

“Mistress,” he whimpered.

“Well?”

Instead of speaking, he whimpered again and shifted his legs. His body was coiled tighter than any spring - and to think he had been so relaxed with she had first walked in.

“Oh, dear.” Belle pulled harder at his hair. “Use your words, pet. I know you have them somewhere in that head of yours.”

They had been working on his diction; he knew all the words for the most part, but he seemed unwilling to form a coherent sentence. Belle wasn’t one to get caught up in grammar and being completely accurate, really she wasn’t, but she couldn’t read his mind, and some things called for more than just one word answers or grunts. He had made beautiful progress in the recent months, but there was the occasional step back.

Rum spread his legs farther apart, and she could see his cock, thick and hard, resting between his legs. This part of his anatomy was usually as molten-grey as the rest of him, but now his cock was closer to purple, the head a deeper color.

“How long have you been hard?” she cooed. She reached down and delicately circled the head with the tip of her finger.

The response was beautiful; he gasped and shook, a tremor shaking him as he tried to push himself fully into her hand.

“How’s your ass?” She asked, lifting her finger off him but not pulling away. “Is the plug uncomfortable?”

“Been hard hours, mistress. No pain, mistress,” Rum whispered.

Belle hummed. “Very good, pet.”  She reached out her hand and squeezed the tip of his cock. Rum shuddered and grunted. “See what happens when you answer me? Now, are you ready to behave?”

She slowly squeezed down his length. When she reached the base, she pulled up, just as slowly, just as tightly. She was met with a whimper and finally: “Yes, mistress.”

“Yes what?” her hand paused, and his hips shunted, trying to get her to move.

“I’m ready to behave.”

* * *

_Belle had come to the conclusion that this beast was not inherently dangerous._

_His tongue was warm and wet as it trailed across her temple. Even if she had been expecting it, it was still a strange sensation._

_“Does your saliva have healing properties, then?” she asked. He had cut the rope with his claws. When it became clear her leg indeed wouldn’t support her weight, he carried her into his cave where he set her down._

_He snorted. “Clean,” he said as he licked the blood and dirt (dried or not) from her face. When he was satisfied that she was indeed clean, he leaned back on his haunches. His wide eyes met hers, and he waited. For what, she didn’t know._

_“Will you help me climb out of your ravine?” she had asked for want of anything else to say._

_The thing frowned. His shoulders seemed to slump, and he whined low in his chest. “Clever girl,” he said, but it lacked the tinkling of when he sang it._

_Belle reached out and touched his chin. “Belle. My name is Belle.”_

_“Belle._ Belle _,” he said, saying her name like it was a lifeline. “Stay. Belle stay.”_

_Stay? Her first reaction was a hard_ no _. This thing could very well be softening her up only to devour her later. But when she looked around his dwelling, there were no bones, no blood. When she looked back to him, his eyes were wide and pleading, but his shoulders were still hunched in resignation._

_If she asked him to help her climb out, he’d do it. But where would she go?_

_She had no home to return to - her father had practically sold her to Gaston, and Hordor as no doubt reporting back that she had fallen to the beast. What did she want from their world anymore?_

_The answer was not a god damned thing._

_“Okay,” she said. “I will stay.”_

* * *

“I’ve had such a long day, Rum, and it’s all your fault.” Belle sat on the bed, leaning back on her arms as she surveyed him. He really was beautiful like this, bound and desperate. “I had to repair the book that you ruined. Even now, I don’t know if it’s salvageable. What’s worse,” she continued, watching Rum’s still frame carefully, “you weren’t even there to make me a calming cup of tea. You need to make this up to me, pet.”

Rum nodded and whined. Belle pulled her long skirt up to pool around her hips and spread her legs. She wasn’t wearing knickers.

“Well?”

Rum crawled to her on his knees as well as he was able, considering his wrists were still tied to his ankles.

Belle smiled contentedly, knowing that the restraints would cause him to clench around the plug (bigger than any they had used before), and yes, there was proof of how he enjoyed this: beads of liquid were starting to pool from his cock. Belle licked her lips.

When her Rum finally reached her, she pulled him forward by his hair, brought his face to her cunt. “Can you smell me? Look how wet I am for you already.” With her other hand she ran her fingers down her slit, prying apart her lips to show him.

“Please, mistress.”

“Go on, then.”

He surged forward, mouth and tongue and lips. He leaned forward as best he could, tongue tracing her entrance.

“Oh, Rum,” Belle hummed, as he thrust his tongue into her as deep as he could. After a few thrusts, he pulled out, licked his way to her clit and suckled.

Belle leaned back in contentment. His mouth was always amazing, but it was ten fold the pleasure when Rum was desperate like this.

She gasped, legs spreading wider as he kept teasing her. Almost, she was almost…

She pulled him away from her, and he whined in disappointment at the loss.

Wasting no time, Belle slid two fingers into her cunt and looked for that sweet spot that would send her flying. Rum tried to lean into her, to get to her clit, but she held him back.

“Please, please mistress, let me,” he begged, and god that was a beautiful sound. His chin glistened, his eyes wild as he watched her fingers work. “Please.”

She shifted her hips, canting her fingers deeper and yes, yes, there - she gasped as she found release, squirting all over her Rum’s face.

Rum keened, a high sound that seemed to be torn from him. He was practically vibrating, covered in her finish. Belle looked down, and the head of his cock was positively purple.

“What a good boy you are,” she cooed, petting his hair. “It looks like you need to come now.”

He nodded vigorously, his hips canting towards her.

“Lean back, pet.” She ordered. It was with a great amount of restraint that Rum did what he was told, and for that alone, he deserved to come.

She regarded him for a moment, deciding how best she could go about this. Finally, she patted her lap. “Come up to the bed, pet.”

Rum whined. Bound as he was, his mobility was strictly limited.

“Hush, dear. I’ll help you.”

Belle reached down and slid a hand around his waist, using the other for leverage. When Rum shifted his weight forward, she was able to pull him up, albeit ungracefully. She knew neither one of them minded with his knees on either side of her hips, one of her hands around his cock and the other one cradling his balls.

“Such a good boy you are,” she hummed as she stroked him from base to tip. She squeezed his balls for good measure, pressing them up against his body, then pulling down gently.

She kept up a steady rhythm, his hips meeting her when she faltered. Keeping a hand on his cock, she reached around behind him, where the plug was still nestled in his body. He gasped when she pulled it from him, and he bucked and keened when she pressed it back in. Steadily, she pulled on his cock while fucking him with the plug, working it in and out.

“What a good boy you are, what a pretty boy,” she breathed against his temple. His head was on her shoulder, his gasps pressed into her throat. “You’re taking it so well, you good boy.”

“Mistress, please.”

“What is it, pet? Do you need to come?”

“Yes, mistress,” he gasped, at a particularly hard thrust of the plug. She did it again, and again.

“Ask me.”

“Please, mistress, may I come?”

“Yes, my precious boy. Come for me.”

She kept her hand around his cock as his balls drew up, as his hips lost their rhythm and he finished, ropes of his silky come landing on the front of her dress. He hid his cry by biting down hard on her neck, and Belle groaned. She kept thrusting the plug into him, trying to prolong his orgasm as long as she could.

Finally, Rum went slack in her arms. His body slumped against her and he halfheartedly licked at the mark he had made in apology. Belle carefully pulled the plug from his body, and he gave a last shudder as he became free of it. She reached down, undoing the knots that had kept him in place for so long. He hummed as she rubbed feeling back into his limbs.

“Such a good boy,” she kept cooing as she ran her fingers through his hair. “I’m glad it was you who found me at the bottom of that chasm,” Belle murmured not for the first time, and certainly not for the last.

Rum purred low in his throat, his chest rising contentedly.


End file.
